Galactic Log 1.5 – Rho Tiarmstrong

I place my hands behind my head and keep watching the ceiling, unable to focus on one particular light in front of me. I notice a few more specks, flickering about. What exactly are these dots?

It reminds me of a solar system. Are these glowing insects perhaps? Maybe some kind of solar flare.

Nah, that can’t be right.

They gleam and seem to pulsate before my very eyes; they’re not too bright, and yet they remain absolutely motionless. None of the glimmering spots move from my sight. These must be inanimate, not even remotely alive.

But the way they form, making strange patterns above me, I begin to wonder what the hell I’m doing with my life. What the fuck is my purpose? I begin to have second thoughts about why I’m here.

A cluster of them together reminds me of something. I suddenly feel homesick. There’s a sense of longing––to see the stars. There’s a galaxy that I can’t reach; outer space is where I truly belong.

The room is dark and I can’t seem to recall my past. It’s been like this for so long I can’t remember what I did to get in this dilemma. I’m trapped. There’s no glimmer of hope in this place, this protective sphere of mine is suffocating me.

I sigh and pretend to be content for now. Deep down, I know something’s wrong. All the curtains drape over the large windows. They shield me from the incessant noise and lights coming from outside. I’m not sadden by the appearance of my messy room.

Is this really my apartment?

I still don’t feel like getting out of bed.

(To be continued…)

 Copyrighted © 2017 by W.D. Lady


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